


Catnip

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Thief (Video Game 2014)
Genre: Aftercare, Aphrodisiacs, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blood and Injury, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Head Injury, House of Blossoms, Injury Recovery, Light BDSM, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Opium, Self-Discovery, This comes before the House of Blossoms quest in game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Garrett quickly realizes why the House of Blossoms' opium is so popular. It's not like normal opium and he can't help how rough hands suddenly feel so damn good on his already desperately touch starved body. After a non-consensual dosing of opium laced fumes by a bad pipe, Garrett finds himself locked in a room with two of the Thief-Taker's bodyguards, prepared to have fun with the Master Thief himself when an unlikely ally comes to his rescue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is mentioned rape/non-con but it is not very explicit and it doesn't go very far into the scene before it is interrupted. Read at your own leisure. 
> 
> This is mostly a Garrett x Madam Xiao Xiao fic.

He wasn’t particularly reckless. Garrett mused at first, inspecting the piping that went in and out of the processing room in the House of Blossoms. It wasn’t anymore dangerous than the rickety rusty copper pipes that led in and out of the many wealthier homes he’s scaled in the past. It certainly wouldn’t be the last and he’s dealt with far shadier constructs that worked as his temporary highway to hidden secrets and glittering treasures. His footwork was quiet as he slipped around the banister and darted across the opening at the top of the few small steps leading down. Two young women were dutifully complaining about their regular customers.

He tucked the little tidbits of info away into the back of his mind for later, deciding the gossip about a few unsuspecting Lords and their lack of dignity would definitely amuse Basso. His lips quirking up into a pleased smile like a spoiled feline, muffling any amused noises that would filter into the warmer air of the room. The furnace burned furiously, flooding the whole room in waves of heat, drenching his previously chilled form in licks of sweat that clung to the inside of his leathers. Moving was made only minutely more uncomfortable but the sticky humid summer nights were far worse compared to this.

His fingers twitched eagerly as they slipped through a nook and scoured through the dust to find fallen gold pieces that had rolled unsuspected from someone’s coin purse. The glimmer stealing his gaze as the furnace flickered with a roaring grin. Feeling certain that he had taken everything not currently nailed down, his pouches already growing full and he hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet.

His first step up onto the pipes was an uncertain one, his foot slipping on the condensation that had gathered on the exterior. He double checked it then replaced his step, gripping the side frames where points had been repaired and caged in with new supports, a quicker fix than replacing the entire pipe system for one crack or warped joint. 

Now, Garrett was by no means a large man. His tiny frame and light weight made it easier to slip into small holes and cram himself into inconceivable nooks where the average person, other than a small child, couldn’t even dream of fitting into. This of course was a blessing for the man. So when he mounted the pipe and was greeted with a heart stopping groan under his body weight, he paused. His dark eyes falling to inspect the pipe itself with scrutiny, probing the weakened metal with an attentive eye before chancing it further in. This, apparently, was the wrong choice. A single step forward and the pipe groaned, the area around the repaired joint grew soft underfoot and, in one less than graceful motion, Garrett felt his foot give in. The pipe caved and belched a plume of sickly green laced vapors into the air. Garrett hissed through clenched teeth, lips sealing shut quickly as he fell. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, as metal met his side on the way down, the women in the room beside him screaming at the sudden leak, racing out with alarm. 

Garrett’s head spun, a fuzzy sensation clouding his thoughts as if someone had cracked his skull open and stuffed it with cotton. He struggled to wade through his thoughts, knowing full well he should be doing something other than lying like a dead fish beneath the debris. The metal fragments littered around his body, blown across the hard concrete floor by the continuous flow of air rushing out. It slowed after a moment before turning off completely. The sickly green haze lingered above reeking of a bittersweet scent that coated his tongue. His head rolled to the side as his eyes slid towards movement, blinking twice to clear his blurry vision when he noticed the shifting of bodies and boots. Clad in dark fabric sending fuzzy alarm bells ringing in the back of his head. 

Garrett knew he needed to move but his body was sluggish, his limbs heavy and refusing to obey. With some additional effort spurred on by a loud shout, he pushed himself upright and slunk into the next room over, curling around the corner of the doorway and tucking himself firmly into its security. His cloak wrapped around his body like a safety blanket, drawing in a shuddering breath followed by another as he tried to push off the fog suppressing his thoughts. 

“One of the girls saw someone over here.” A guard called, hushed voices were a distant buzz to Garrett’s ears as boot steps closed the gap between. 

“That pipe was gonna go sooner or later.” Another guard hummed. Peering around the corner, Garrett squinted at the man, focusing on his shape that filtered in and out lazily between two figures joined at the hip to one figure with numerous limbs. He blinked, scrunched his face up then sighed, giving up as the guard turned away from inspecting the damaged metal. 

“Hey! I just saw something back there.” The voice blurted, the second set of footsteps closed in on the first guard’s location. Garrett cursed under his breath, searching the tiny room for some way out but to no avail. There were a few boxes, a small space to tuck himself into out of sight but he first needed to get past the doorway. Glancing around the corner one last time, he took a leap of faith, willing his sluggish feet to move. He didn’t go so swiftly, nearly stumbling over himself as he pitched forward, rolled and bumped his shoulder jarringly into the corner of the crate. The pained hiss was muffled as he bit down on his scarf, gritting his teeth with a thousand curses to the Trickster himself. 

“I see you little mouse. Come out, come out.” The joking tone carried a sing song glint to the edges, betraying any sense of urgency in their advances. “The cat just wants to play.”

Garrett wiggled himself through the narrow space, pushing open the panel with clumsy fingers. The wrench slipped from his grasp, rolling across the floor with a loud scrape of metal on concrete. He went stone still, shoulders hunched as he waited, listened, _ felt out _any pursuing presence. His senses were clouded, the fog seemed to only grow worse with time instead of fading with the influx of fresh air. His head throbbed but in a way that didn’t seem painful, oddly enough. 

A shiver raced down his spine, only giving him a moment’s warning before a voice rumbled into his ear and he felt the tug of fingers in his cloak. “Got you little mouse.” 

Garrett whirled around, blackjack clutched in a tight fist on reflex. _ At least that worked. _He cursed as the first guard ripped at his cloak, dragging him off balance and tugging him to fall into the nearby crates once more. The second guard looped an arm around his bicep and captured his wrist, prying the blackjack from his grasp. Garrett fought against them, kicking out at the guard who met him with a hard elbow to the ribs, forcing all the air out with a choked off sound. They dragged him easily to the back of the little storeroom, kicking the door shut behind themselves and locking it. Garrett’s boots struggled to fix beneath him for leverage as they muscled him down, one guard easily pinning him to the floor with his body weight pressed into Garret’s chest.

Garrett clawed at the guard’s chest, nails raking across the lapels as he clutched and grappled at anything he could get a hold of, his hands quickly being pressed back into the hard ground, knuckles rapping painfully against the concrete. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” One of the guards hissed through clenched teeth. “Charlie!” 

“Oi, I ain’t gonna kill him or nothin.” The man, Charlie, chuckled sharply, almost dangerously to his companion. “Come on Logan, nothing catches the Master Thief.” He gestured, his large hands dropping to Garrett’s hips to punctuate his statement. 

“You toss around for a night with the whores upstairs and you’ll get an itch in your groin that you won’t be able to scratch off for a long time.” He pointed out. 

His companion, Logan, didn’t look all that pleased with the answer or even the idea. “We can’t-”

“Sure we can. Have a little fun with our little thief and then when the General is finished upstairs, we hand him over all neatly trussed up. We’ll be promoted by the morning.”

“But….” Logan’s voice trailed, the subordinate glanced towards Garrett’s wild and pleading eyes, the sickening feeling sinking in his stomach when Logan turned away. “It's just that...he’s a well, _ he. _”

Charlie broke off a laugh as he looked up at his companion. “I’m not one for swinging to the same side but a guy isn’t any different than a bitch. Ever done anal with a lady, lad?”

Both the subordinate and Garrett shared the same disturbed expression on their faces, eyes wide with equal disgust that earned a hearty laugh from the commander. “Shut up and find me some oil. One of the girls in the lobby might have some. Say it's for fixin the busted pipes.” Logan looked conflicted, eyes straying to where Garrett was pinned before giving in, slipping quietly out the door with head tucked down to retrieve the aforementioned oil. 

This left Garrett alone with the commander who had the most disturbing shit eating grin on his face that Garrett had ever seen. His features split with an untold type of amusement that made his skin crawl like he’d fallen into a pit of insects. That didn’t last long as the guard retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his belt and, after fighting Garrett’s hands off, managed to capture them both and chain them together and forced them behind his back. He rolled the Master Thief over onto his belly, fingers pawing at the ties and strings of his corset, slipping all the straps free of their fastenings and began undressing and disarming Garrett. 

He squirmed, kicked out at the guard who caught his foot and forced his leg back, grinding Garrett’s knees into the concrete. He stifled a groan as he was pinned once more in place, the heavy weight on his back crushing him. The second guard returned, looking red faced and flustered, carrying a small leather pouch in his hands, fumbling to lock the door behind himself when Charlie called out. 

“Come here and help me with the little rat!” He nearly dropped the pouches and knelt beside Garrett, applying weight into his upper back to keep the smaller framed man in place. Garrett gasped as fingers slipped around his shoulders. He felt them pull at his cowl and hood, removing the scarf to be used to tie his hands in place, the first stretch of pale flesh exposed to the warm air. Garrett squirmed, managed to wiggle his way back onto his knees as the guards hands retracted only for them to return. He expected to be pinned back down into the floor, breath stored painfully in his chest as he anticipated the pinpricks of pain that would follow but it never came. He felt a tug at his back then the warm air licking at his bare thighs. 

His clouded thoughts slogged through the drug in his system when he realized they were undressing his leathers. He squirmed, twisted to look over his shoulder but a hand dropped to the back of his neck forcing his head back down. He gritted his teeth, cursing the Trickster and all his misfortune for this situation.

Rough hands drew circles on the backs of his thighs, thumbing over the scars and wounds along his calves, bite marks from dogs, punctures, scrapes and lacerations from sneaking through precarious holes and nooks. The dark scarred over marks where gear chafed at his skin, leaving long repetitive abrasions. Of course, that was back when he was young and still figuring out what made for better more comfortable gear.

Every touch from the guard would normally disgust Garrett, make his body pull away reflexively, coil up like a wounded dog and cower away but he didn’t. He felt himself leaning back into the rough gentle hands that smoothed over his flank and brushed knuckles against his inner thigh, eliciting a barely audible sigh from his lips. _ The drug. _Garrett thought as his body went against his rational mind, rocking back into the physical contact like a needy little whore. 

It took only moments for Garrett to realize why the opium from the House of Blossoms was so genuinely unique. Leave it to a brothel to turn a simple painkiller into an influencer for sex. His back dipped down as those hands rolled up the thinner white shirt that was already pasted to his torso, dampened by sweat. He buried his face into his bracers, teeth tasting the salty bitter tang of his leather as he bit into it. _ Fuck. _He cursed as his touch starved body betrayed him. Too many long nights alone in the clock tower with little more than his own hands for company. The stinging bite of his own nails on his thighs as he rutted into pillows or the warmth of his own palms. To feel another hand on his skin elicited shivers of excitement, little electrical pulses racing throughout his body with flourish, making him weak limbed and desperate. An ache formed deep inside, desperate with want, the sort of ache he had dismissed regularly when stress became too much and the nights far too quiet.

He hated it all so much as the guard mused behind him. The drip of barely warm oil on his inner thigh was the only warning he received. The next hand that touched him was less considerate, groping at tender flesh and pressing against him. Garrett gritted his teeth, tasting blood on his tongue when fingers tried to force their way inside him, oil slick or not, they weren't going to fit. He willed his body to resist, twisted away from the touch only to earn a sharp hit to his upper back. His spine dipped and he groaned, kicking out at the guard again as he rolled over onto his side, using his leg to plant his boot firmly into the center of their chest. The commander of the two growled, his amusement replaced with quick tempered fury as he struck out at Garrett, catching him in the side of the face, his head connecting with the concrete sending white explosions of pain through his skull. 

Garrett felt the world fall apart around him in a blur of colors and movements. His legs were wrenched apart as the second guard shouted at the first. The voices too loud and aggressive in his ears, an argument began, his body was shoved harder into the ground, his leg pinned uncomfortably beneath the weight as if they were trying to pry the whole damn joint off. 

He heard a new voice, sharp and direct yet also strangely familiar. His head lifted to try and inspect the newcomer. The bright light filtering in through the open door of the storeroom, the heat rolling in suddenly, rushing over his body in waves. He could barely make out the hints of red hair and dark stockings. _ Lingerie? _ He looked confused. None of the women in this establishment would have the balls to talk back to a guard. 

Then it struck him, almost quite literally as a guard fell in an agonizing heap at his side. His screams blaring through Garrett's pounding head until a quick move left silence. The voice came again, more personal this time complimented by a gentler touch. A warm clean fabric enveloped him. It took Garrett a moment to realize he had been wrapped in a blanket and hoisted up into strong arms. A daring glance through bleary eyes, blurred by the bright popping lights and he saw the hints of makeup. There was no mistaking it. His peculiar savior was the Madam of the house herself. 

Garrett wasn't sure if he should be grateful or disturbed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I had planned this to be three chapters long but now I realize this may turn out being a bit longer than anticipated. I hope I do the characters justice as this is my first Thief fic I've written.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos so far! Feel free to comment below, any and all feedback would be appreciated.

Apparently the best course of action was the former, not the latter, despite it being more tempting. He barely remembered the passage from that tiny cramped storeroom with the all too oppressive heat and the bittersweet stench of reduced poppy in the air burning across his nostrils and down his throat. The flicker of warm lights as they walked by were painful to his eyes, forcing them to squeeze shut. 

His head rolled against the Madam's bicep, tucking into her shoulder as she adjusted the blanket to help shield his form from passersby. Her girls directed around to help clean up the mess downstairs. It wasn't her intention to get blood all over but at least it was somewhere that patrons wouldn't wander off to accidentally discover. It would be problematic to explain to the General why two of his men were now permanently missing but then again, she doubted he even knew the sort of foul company he kept routinely.

She clicked her tongue with barely concealed disgust as they came to the doorway leading into her own private quarters. A press of her hip against the door guiding it open as she carefully maneuvered the small bundle in her arms through. Balancing on a foot, she guided the door shut to prevent it from startling the figure in her hold before carrying him the rest of the way towards the bed.

As she laid him down, Garrett came unraveled in the blankets. The sorry state of his body was easier to see in the bright lights of her room, which she utilized now that she could take a step back and inspect the pale lengths of flesh sprawled across the ruby red bedding. His leathers were hanging open and off of him uncomfortably. She helped remove the rest of the pieces that were in disarray on his chest, barely clinging to his shoulders. Taking each piece off, she inspected it before folding it up neatly to sit off to the side. She repeated this for his bracers and gloves, his boots, his corset, cowl, cloak and scarf. The rest of his belongings were being gathered up by one of the girls and would be returned shortly.

The gentlest touch of fingers on Garrett's cheek drew a nearly inaudible whine from his throat. His dark eyes fluttering open to gaze up at the Madam, a look that bordered on shell-shocked. Eyes wide and unblinking, gazing unseeingly up at her, or more specifically, past her. As if Garrett couldn't perceive the person directly in front of him. She brushed a thumb over his cheek, tracing his cheek bone and outlining the sunken hollows of his face where signs of a lifetime of malnourishment had taken their toll.

Her voice was firm, holding a guiding edge that both demanded attention but was soft enough to ask for obedience at the same time. A tone she had developed over the years in this fickle profession, bending the wills of men and women alike to her whims with a firm hand and a guiding voice. Garrett seemed to startle, going tense beneath her touch as she called out his name, repeating it ever so softly the second time and followed it up a moment later for a third.

This wasn't her first rodeo with victims of abuse, many of her girls struggled through the events of violent men too heavy on their drink and unable to perceive what _ no _ means. Wealthy entitled men. But tonight was no different. Garrett wasn't one of the girls sheltered beneath her roof but he experienced a horror many of them faced almost daily. Madam Xiao Xiao was not one to condone thievery, especially within the walls of her establishment but no crime was worth a punishment such as that. Murder, hangings, branding, torture, yes those were the proper punishable offenses for thievery in this city but something about violating a person from within without their consent twisted something ugly up inside.

The General can take his dogs back with him from whatever hole they crawled out of and bury the carcasses there for all she cared.

Sighing softly and realizing rather quickly that there wasn't anything she would accomplish at the moment with the Master Thief, she settled for the next best thing. Gathering a warm basin of water and a clean wash rag, she set to work helping clean him up. The damp rag wiping away the spilled oil that had dripped down Garrett's thighs and inspecting any signs of damage in that area. Thankfully she interrupted when she did, saving the young man from worse traumas.

He had made enough of a racket and luckily the guards were too foolish in their trust that their positions would keep them from being investigated. The young girls that were dutifully processing the opium in the room over were quick to take note of the suspicious activity and were far from stupid to fall for their lies and briskly informed the Madam of what misdeeds were going on beneath her roof.

………..

Garrett had drifted in and out of a state of lucidity. His senses were warped, the lighting far too bright for his eyes as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The warm wet touch of a damp cloth on skin felt pleasant, cooling quickly in the air and calming the feverish heat that had claimed him in the swells of the furnace room. The pallor that normally leached across his body was replaced by a warm flush uncharacteristic of his normally ghostly visage.

He felt the small circular scrubbing motions as something wiped away the layers of sweat and grime that had accumulated across his body in his struggles, coaxing up those conflicting feelings bubbling in the center of his belly once more. He squirmed, a hand reached to stop the movements when he realized he was still shackled in the guard's handcuffs. His sudden panic hadn't gone unnoticed by the looming figure that stood by his side, seemingly just out of his view. The gentle touch of fingers on his cheek betrayed his anticipation, making him flinch away, ducking his head to avoid being struck. The touch paused in their advances, lingered in the air for a moment before dropping to his shoulder where they fixed the opening of the thin white shirt he wore beneath his armor.

Garrett was briefly made aware of the lack of protection that guarded his body from enemies. This realization made him feel even smaller and far more vulnerable than he was comfortable with. The oversaturation of bright lights was a startling addition to his environment that made him want to slink away and curl up beneath the bed he was currently spread out on. The ache in the back of his head throbbed when he touched tender skin to the mattress, rolling his head to the side to try and get a better look at his keeper. The flash of red hair was the giving detail that deflated his fears only a little. The air rushed from his chest, lessening the tension that tightened up his shoulders and made his aching back even stiffer than before.

"Garrett?" Madam Xiao Xiao spoke up, the tone uncharacteristically soft, drawing his gaze towards her awaiting figure off to the side. The movement of his eyes caused pinpricks of pain at the backs as if they were pulling taut against the optic nerves themselves. He blinked, squeezed his eyes shut as his face scrunched up in discomfort before opening again, quick to respond at the touch of a warm palm cupping his cheek. It did a little better at blocking out the bright lights, causing him to tilt into the touch to seek the fraction of shadows offered.

"Garrett, can you hear me? Do you understand what's going on?" Her voice was laced with concern, held higher with a note of wariness as if the thief could blink out of existence and disappear before her very eyes if startled. Like a frightened mouse skittering along the baseboards for scraps or crumbs in the night.

Realizing he would do better not to move his head too much if the painful throbbing was any indication, he opted to a grunt. Madam Xiao Xiao seemed displeased with the lack of verbal response, forcing him to vocalize the next one. 

"Yeah." He rasped quietly, swallowing thickly against his dry throat. It was rough, stirring a cough in its presence that made him wince, jarring his already pounding head.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" She started after a momentary pause, watching his expression for any tells of signs. She observed the momentary wince as he moved his head, the gesture warranted further concern as fingers moved to carefully inspect the wound barely concealed in the closely cropped dark hair. He hissed through clenched teeth when the pads of her fingers encircled the forming lump in the back. The expanse of tender bruised flesh held little worry, pleased no blood had been spilled in the process but her fears remained. Head injuries were tricky to handle and a life that seemed in the clear could be lost in moments.

"Opium…" Garrett began with hushed effort, lips drawn back into a snarl. "....guards."

The rest was left in the air between them, hanging like a dead body that neither wanted to appraise any further. The tension was thick, growing heavier with each passing moment, silence interrupted only by the steady breathing from Garrett's chest. The side of the bed shifted, the mattress sagging under Xiao Xiao's weight as she took a seat beside him. Her carefully painted nails taking a moment to fix the fabric of his shirt, pulling it further down to cover his slender frame. The littering of dark bruises were daunting to look at, drawing on older memories of harsh grasps and venomous disgust that trickled into the Madam's mind. This was no easy world to live in, that was true. Be it for a lovely maiden or the simple thief. The Watch was a terror that loomed over them all, an idealized masquerade of power tucked behind shiny badges and polished reissued boots.

“This probably isn’t something you’d wish to hear right now but I can’t let you leave.” Xiao Xiao felt Garrett stiffen beside her. The tension wound up his body, giving the intent to curl up like a wounded animal and scramble out of view were it not for the pain it would cause from the Guard’s brutality. Her hand reached out to rest on his thigh before thinking better of it, retracting to rest instead on his forearm where it peeked out from underneath his hip.

Reading body language was something the Madam had considered a talent of hers, especially in this business. Both in reading her patrons for their intent, the way they left themselves open, inviting and easy, or at times, being able to utilize the same form of silent communication to ward off stubborn or volatile men with too short tempers and even smaller manhood. With sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, she could disarm or force off any situation that would risk the lives of her women. It even translated over a bit into her pride, the satisfaction she could harvest from the ease at which men who quarrelled daily could be corralled like cattle into vulnerable little pens of their own making. All illusions of control given up with each puff of the pipe, inhaling the house’s special blend of opium that lulled them into a false sense of security while some pretty little thing crawled into the laps and murmured pretty words into their ears. 

It was easy, the norm of her daily routine with whatever nobility sulked to her front steps with high demands, flashing coin purses like it were an extension of what they lacked between the legs. It amused her to put it simply. 

But seeing the man at her side now, the way he recoiled from her touch and furled into himself. The sluggish flicker of his gaze squinting against the lights of the room, seeking out all the dark little corners to squirrel himself away into. It was hard to watch, so to speak. It pulled on something inside her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, had considered herself numb to in every definition of the word. She sighed, heavily. The itch for a smoke burning in the back of her thoughts as she navigated her way through her next words. 

“I do not mean to keep you prisoner little thief.” She said finally. “But you will need to hold off your escape until tomorrow at the earliest. The Thief-Taker General himself is staying in our accommodations and his missing bodyguards are already going to arouse suspicions.”

She felt Garrett shift at her side, the wary look he gave her forced a dry laugh from her throat. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend on handing you over to him.” She dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand as if dissipating smoke from her vision. Her eyes returning to inspect his expression, noticing the far away look in his eyes as if he was having trouble focusing. She snapped her fingers, giving his cheek a light slap to elicit a sharp pain. He blinked, eyes widening before looking up at her wearily. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“Easier said than done.” He mumbled out, barely audible to the Madam’s ears were it not for the strange silence upstairs. The ticking of a clock on the wall filled the monotony, a noise that seemed to lull him oddly enough.

Garrett shifted on the bed, his wrists pulling beneath him once more before a choked off sound bubbled in his throat. He frowned to himself as if in deep concentration. It took Xiao Xiao a moment to realize he may have been trying to slip his way from the guard’s shackles. Considering this an optional show of good faith, she rose from her seat, making Garrett go stone still in the process. His wide eyes followed her figure as it circled around to the side of the bed then trailed across the room to a desk just out of view behind a decorative screen. She returned just as quietly as she had left with a small silver piece in her grasp. 

“Let me see your hands. Staying cuffed like that is going to be hell on your shoulders.” She chided. Garrett stared at her in contemplation before obliging the shooing gesture, rolling over onto his side to expose his bruised wrists. She clicked her tongue, a disgruntled sound that flicked through his groggy thoughts as the shackles fell away. The groan that left him was unintentional as he moved his hands to rest in front of himself. Fingers already dutifully massaging the sore areas, inspecting the black and purple marks that spread down along his forearms, splotched with intervals of red in between where the metal frame had rubbed at the tender skin.

Garrett frowned, pinching his brows together with a conflicted look that drew an amused noise from the Madam. She took the cuffs in hand, twirled them teasingly on her fingers before depositing both the shackles and the key onto the desk. “This is a house of _ pleasure _ Garrett. Unlike the Watch, we do not deal in the suffering of others.”

Garrett didn’t necessarily take that the way the Madam had intended but the amused look that darted briefly across his features was reassuring enough. The slight barely noticeable quirk of his lips that was gone far too quickly in the realization he wasn’t hiding behind his mask and leathers. The brief triumph had been fleeting, vanished as the thief responded accordingly to his newfound vulnerability and discomfort, added on top of the pounding headache and what appeared to be the remaining effects of the opium. Thankfully enough it was fading. The Madam wasn’t sure what she would do had he be subject to a batch of the finished product.

For a man adverse to physical contact such as he was, she mused, a potent aphrodisiac would be borderline torture.


End file.
